


Wait For You

by claryourcanvas (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, The other boys are only present for like a second, Yes I wrote this it's from my tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/claryourcanvas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never really talked anymore, and his voice was rough and scratchy, and his face was leaner, and his eyes didn’t twinkle too much anymore, and he’s changed. All anyone ever talked about depressed him, because there was only person who he wanted to talk to, and he was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For You

**Author's Note:**

> I stole this from my own Tumblr. It got nice reviews. I don't really use that Tumblr anymore, so I decided to post it on here :3

Harry was sleeping when Louis barged in his room, but he ruined that for him. Louis— of all people— had known about Harry’s recent insomnia; not that he cared.

Or rather, he failed to  _show_  how much he cared.

Louis cared about a lot of things, Harry included, but was never to one to share how he actually felt. At least not in little, stupid, cute ways (he’s not going to light stupid romantic candles on a bridge at midnight only to get stood up, if you catch his drift).

Harry thought he was a good person, though. There were a lot of people who thought he was a good person. People who didn’t even  _know_  him thought he was a good person, but they didn’t know the half of it. Louis was so good sometimes it made Harry sick just thinking about, because how can you  _not_  get annoyed at your sister, Lou, and how can you  _not_  just want to tear that fan’s hair out, Lou, and  _how do you not just punch your girlfriend in the face, Lou._

He’d never expressed that last one out loud, though, because there are just some things you don’t tell your best friend about his girlfriend, no matter how much of an ass you think she is, even though you don‘t know why you hate her so much, because apparently he likes her and stuff, or something like that.

Only, when Louis plopped down right at the foot of Harry’s bead, hopping up and down, that was the last thought on his mind. He could honestly not give half of a shit, because this was so  _Louis_.

Harry almost screamed because  _that’s such a fucking Louis thing to do, Louis._

_“_ Did I wake you Hazza?” Louis always had this smile on his face when they were around each other.

“I dunno. The same, I guess.” Harry couldn’t look away from the eyes in front of him. He stared, his eyes were magnetized. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Hazza.”

“No you didn’t. You couldn’t have.”

“Yes, I most certainly did!” Louis almost smacked him. “How’s Niall?”

“You haven’t seen him around?”

“How is he?” The older boy’s eyes darkened, getting serious. Harry kind of liked when he got serious, secretly. Behind all of Louis’ joking, he could be serious too, and that was important, and Louis could tell when it was important, and he loved that about him.

“The same.”

“Still a drunken, foul-mouthed, skinny-ass leprechaun, eh?”

“The last time I checked, he was.”

“And what about Zayn?”

“We went to the bar the other day.”

“Without Niall?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Louis whispered, almost to himself. “Things  _have_ changed.”

“That’s kind of what happens when a band breaks up, you know.” Harry’s eyes pierced into Louis’ almost angrily. “Things change.”

Louis dismissed him. “What about Liam?”

“Taking it hard, blaming himself, the usual. Last time I checked.”

“When was the last time you spoke with him?”

“Maybe a few weeks ago?” Harry’s voice was almost in a whisper and he stared at his hands. “I mean, he’s kind of been speaking to me, I guess. Trying to, at least, but he always wants to talk about the same thing. I hate that about him.”

“You don’t really hate him, Harry.”

They looked up at each other and didn’t say anything, but they were both droopy-eyed and tired looking, and having some kind of silent communication that Harry wished would just last forever.

“No.” Harry sighed, “I don’t really hate him.” 

“He and Niall dating, now?”

“According to Sugarscape, and Twitter, and my mom.” Harry let out a chuckle that might’ve been fake. “Don’t really pay attention to that too much though. It’s funny that they’re together though. If we were still in the band that never would have happened, you know that, right?”

“Contract obligations, management, etc.”

“So maybe it was best the band broke up after all,” Harry sniffled.

Louis looked around, desperately trying to change the subject. “So what have you been up to?” When he didn’t answer Louis continued. “Aw, come on Haz, talk to me. Really talk to me. I can’t just read your mind.”

“I can’t read yours, either.”

“Really. What do you want to talk about?”

Harry speculated for a moment. He knew exactly whathe  _didn’t_  want to talk about, because it was what everyone else did.

That was why he never really talked anymore, and his voice was rough and scratchy, and his face was leaner, and his eyes didn’t twinkle too much anymore, and he’s changed. All anyone ever talked about depressed him, because there was only person who he wanted to talk to, and he was gone.

Harry was also never one for confrontation. He didn’t like talking about things he didn’t want to talk about, or ask questions that he knew he wouldn’t get an answer to, and he was more shy than what people gave him credit for, because those people didn’t really know him.

A part of him knew that he shouldn’t be taking the conversation in this direction, but he also knew that he’s been dancing around it for way too long, and this was his chance to get answers.

He took a deep breath. “Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven? Of course not. Red bull gives me wings.”

“Not funny, Lou.”

“I’m actually _dead_ serious right now.”

“You’re actually absolutely ridiculous.”

“Well what exactly do you want me to say?”

“I want you to stop being a prick, for like one second, okay?” Harry’s fists balled up and he pulled his knees to his chest and his eyes sparkled again with something that wasn’t appreciation, or love, or wonder, but it might have been tears of frustration or sadness, but he refused to let Louis see it.

“What am I supposed to say, Harry? Do you want me to tell the truth? Or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, because I‘m a little mixed up here.”

“Well I’d prefer that you’d tell me the truth, Louis.”

“The truth hurts.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Stop trying to be deep, it’s giving me a headache. Just be Louis, okay, that’s all I want.” He took a deep breath. “I want Louis.”

“Me too.”

“Louis would answer my damn question.”

“No he wouldn’t.”

“Yes he would. Louis would tell me that it fucking hurt, and that he was in a shit ton of pain for hours and hours before he died, or he would tell me that it was quick and painless and he wouldn’t dance around this question because that’s a stupid thing to do and that’s the last thing he is, is stupid.” Anger dripped from his tongue and frustration made his eyes sting.

“Louis wouldn’t tell you shit, because maybe he was in a lot of pain, and maybe all he wanted was to hold you and tell you to keep the band alive, and to never stop loving him, but to let him go, because he was just laying on the ground for so fucking long that he almost went insane because he couldn’t just die already, and he couldn’t live, and he couldn’t move, and he was alone and he was scared and he couldn’t do anything about it and it fucking sucked but he doesn’t want you to feel bad about it.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head on the board and wished that this conversation to end and he wanted Louis to go away and he wanted to sleep and just not have to wake up and deal with another day of this.

“But that’s not what you wanted. You wanted it to be quick and painless and you wanted everything to be rainbows and ponies and glitter and sparkles and God came down from heaven and asked me how I was feeling and then I had tea with Princess Dianna and John Lennon but that’s not what happened, okay?”

They were silent for a while.

“Everything sucks without you here.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t even fucking try to apologize, Lou, it’s not your fault.” He took a shaky breath. “If anything, it’s mine.”

“Don’t even try, Harry, I’m the one who stormed out without a body-guard.”

“I’m the one who pissed you off so badly that you stormed out without a bodyguard.”

“Harry don’t.”

“You were trying to talk to me about something I don’t even remember anymore and all I did was be a dick and it’s my fault that you stormed out and got drunk and got fucking beat the shit out of and left to die on some alleyway and I didn’t even look for you-”

“Harry be quiet.”

“And I knew that something was going on because you never leave for more than like an hour and you always come back but I was so pissed off and it’s not even your fault, I was just being a terrible best friend and-”

“Harry just shut up.”

“Even if I was pissed off I shouldn’t have let you go off without a bodyguard because your judgment was already clouded or I should have called Zayn and Niall and-”

“Harry if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to kill you.” The words were out of his mouth before he had the chance to process what they actually said.

“Do it, then.”

“… You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“No you don’t, Harry. You don’t mean that at all because dying sucks okay? I don’t want you to die. So shut up because you’re just tired. Maybe I should leave you alone so you can get some sleep, because you need it.”

Harry’s eyes went wide and he let out a sound that could only be described as a mix between a groan of disapproval and a strangled cry, and his face was tear stained, but his eyes didn’t look like they were crying, and he was so small in the big bed that used to be for the both of them, and he was so vulnerable and tired and Louis couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t leave him like that.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone, Louis.”

Louis crawled over to beside Harry and the bed didn’t shift the way it would have if his body was really there, it he hated that. He hated everything so much. Louis pulled back the covers, or maybe it was really Harry and he just pretended it was Louis. Louis wrapped his arms around the curly-haired boy and set his nose into the nape of his neck, or maybe Harry was just imagining things, and it scared him that he couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone ever again.”

“I know.”

“I love you so much, Louis.” His voice was deeper than normal and he wanted to bury his head into Louis chest but he was afraid that all he would hit was the pillow.

“Don’t say something you wouldn’t say if I weren’t…” Louis took a deep breath. “Dead.”

“I’m not.”

“You haven’t said that to me in so long.”

“I know.”

“I was starting to say that you didn’t anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it. I could never stop loving you. You’re my best friend, and you understand me better than anyone else in the band, and in my family, and in the world, and if you weren’t dead I would have told you the same exact thing. Even now, and even if you’re a ghost, or a figment of my imagination, or if somehow you’ve re-fabricated yourself up to my loft, you’re still the best person in the world, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

“But I don’t think you understand.”

“I do, though.”

“No you  _don’t_ , Louis.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No you _fucking don’t,_  Louis.”

“I know that you’re the most important thing in my life.” He started, and Harry could feel the breath on his neck and he knew it was real. “You are Harry Edward Styles, ex-member of popular boy-band One Direction, son of Anne, brother of Gemma, survived his mum’s divorce, Red and Black, dating a 32 Year Old, and the death of his best friend who he loved very much. He has iconic curly hair and striking green eyes and loves the smell of cinnamon and the feel of fuzzy slippers and is a little bit insane but I wouldn’t have him any other way because everything about him is perfect.

“I would do anything to not get angry at you over something I can’t even remember anymore, and not stomp out, and not have died, but I can’t, because life sucks, and if I could tell you one thing, Harry, it would be that I love you, and I want you to be happy, and I want you to move on, and to make music, because that’s what you want to do.

“I want you to find a wife and have some children and forgive me for being an ass, and I want you to move on.” Louis was crying, almost, and Harry could feel the tears on his chest, or maybe those were his tears.

“What if I don’t want a wife and have any children because I want you.” Harry was whispering and crying and his eyes were closing, and he was getting tired, and he wanted to sleep, but he wanted to stay in that moment with Louis forever because he didn’t know when or even if he would come back.

“Then I’m going to wait for you. But you have to promise me.” Harry nodded, almost asleep, but completely alert. “You have to promise me that you won’t give up, and you’ll try your very fucking best to be happy, and I’ll wait for you.”

Harry never knew if he ever was talking to Louis’ ghost, or if it was just a figment of his imagination. He did his best to believe that it was really Louis, so he could try to be happy, for Louis.

He started sleeping more, and talking to Liam again, and he started laughing with Niall again, and he started being sober with Zayn again, and they all were friends again. Not like before, but close enough; as close as it was going to get.

He started a solo-career, as an un-signed artist, so he could be who he really was and wanted to be: Harry Edward Styles, ex-member of popular boy-band One Direction, son of Anne, brother of Gemma, survived his mum’s divorce, and Red and Black, dating a 32 Year Old, and the death of his best friend who he loved very much.

He moved on, and made music, because that’s what he wanted to do. He never found a wife or had some children but he did a hell of a performance of Hallelujah at Liam and Niall’s wedding that reminded him of when he was fifteen.

He forgave Louis William Tomlinson, his ex-bandmate, for being an ass, and he moved on. He didn’t give up, and he tried his very fucking best to be happy, and Louis waited for him.


End file.
